Sunday, January 28, 2007

Sunday Thoughts

Today someone asked me why I go to church every Sunday evening. So I was thinking about that, and what I do on Sundays, and why I like Sundays.

I like to dress up on Sunday mornings. Today I wore a new pink blouse I got at Ross, and a black skirt. No one fainted visibly, but the truth is I seldom get new Sunday clothes, preferring to have a few outfits that I rotate all winter long.

I make my family dress up for church too, even if their friends can wear t-shirts and khakis with lots of pockets. I know they're nice t-shirts, but I don't care. This is church. Dress up. Steven wore his black pants that just came from Ben, and already they're almost high-water.

During testimony time, Bonnie said her pressure cooker exploded this week. We are all thankful she's ok.

The sermon was about abortion and other moral issues. The preacher told about how he and his wife were expecting a child about 28 years ago, and the ultrasound showed that there was a lot wrong with the baby. The doctor advised them to abort it. They asked a minister for advice, and he said the doctor probably knows best. Hard to imagine, but abortion really wasn't on the church's radar screen back then. Then someone gave them the verses in Ps. 139 about being formed in the mother's womb even when the substance is "yet unperfect," and they decided to carry the child to term. It was seriously deformed and didn't live long, but they are eternally grateful they made that decision.

In the middle of the sermon, Jenny leaned over to me and whispered, "MOM!! What does it mean to commit adultery??" I said it's like if I would leave Dad and fall in love with another man. Matt and Emily said later that's the same answer I gave them, back in the day. More specific questions are coming down the pike, I can see them now. Yes, I am all Victorian about these things.

We played musical children after church. Steven went to Trenton's house, Benjamin G came home with Ben, and Janane came home with Jenny. Janane has been terrified to come to our house because a) she is scared of Paul b) she's scared she won't like the food and c) she is scared of me because I am just so serious. But she seemed to do ok.

We had ham, baked potatoes, gravy, broccoli&cheese, carrots, and peanut butter pie for Sunday dinner. The girls helped beforehand; the guys and I did the dishes, as always.

Then I took a long nap.

And then I combed the little pigtails and had a snack and went to church again. Sunday evenings are less formal and more varied than mornings.

Kevin B. was in charge of the "singspiration." He led a lot of congregational songs including the tearjerking "It is well with my soul." And he shared the story of how the song's author, HG Spafford, lost his small son to illness, his business to the Chicago fire, and later his daughters to a shipwreck, and then he wrote this song. Kevin also told how, one time when he and the quartet he's in sang this song at a prison, he told the story behind it and afterwards a volunteer came up to him and corrected a mistake he'd made in the story, and the volunteer was a descendant of HG Spafford himself.

A quartet sang a lovely song and I cried. I feel like I have become an old woman, crying whenever I hear songs about Heaven. I have a lot of friends there.

At the end of the service we all gathered around Arlen and Sharon and prayed for them, as Arlen is going to preach every evening for a week at a church in Ohio, starting tomorrow, a first for them.

Then I talked to people: to Carrie D, about her babies, to Carrie G, about going to Florida, to Susie, about the women's retreat next month, to Jean, about adoption and her precious little guy who is now theirs, to Ana, about our kids at Bible school, to Rachel, about Janane and how she hardly eats anything, to Drennan, about his writing-class paper that's missing, and to Edwin G, about the service in a few weeks and how he wants me to share how God parted the Red Seas in my life.

Then Matt and Emily went to a youth party, and the rest of us came home and made popcorn and grape juice, and Paul played Settlers of Catan with Ben, Steven and Jenny. Then Paul read a story and the kids went to bed.

This is why I like Sundays. Mornings, evenings, after, and in-between. Sundays are good.

Quote of the Day:
"It's scary way up here!"
--Jenny, walking around in Amy's high-heeled mules


  1. I agree with you. I love Sundays too. And for some reason this Sunday seemed extra special..but then again I said that about last Sunday..well anyways, I love Sundays.
    And yea, some of the songs tonight were tear-jerkers for me too.

  2. We sang that song last evening too.Without planning,most of the songs were about heaven. I wasn't in the mood to go but I went and was most blessed.

  3. I love Sundays, too, for lots of reasons, but one really great reason is this: I can look around my house and see 99 things that need to be done. And I can say, Nope, God said I can't do them today! Then I can stretch out with a good book and a clear conscience and ENJOY! Pauline

  4. I never thought of adultery as "leaving" someone to fall in love with another. At least, that's not the way it happened in my family. I always felt that 'committing adultery' occurred simply when one had an affair with another person, regardless of being together or separate from their spouse.

  5. Pauline, did God really say, "I can't do them today?" Or did He actually give you permission to rest? In fact, He actually gave you permission to rest from that specific "thing that needs to be done" some 6,000 years ago!

  6. Sunday...Ummm!

    Especially, if I got my floor scrubbed the day before, I LOVE coming out to the kitchen in my bare feet early Sunday morning and feel the freshness of a clean floor on my feet. Grab a cup of coffee and just patter around, doing what I need to do.

    And then it is going to church to be with my 'family', the habit of it, the love of it.

    Of course, that is when I especially use perfume, unless it is Saturday when I'm doing my housework.

  7. Boy! I don't know what that other anonymous just before me is up to, but it doesn't look like anything good! Now...maybe you'd consider telling all of us how God parted the Red Sea for you, in a future post? I'm surprised no one else asked! PC in VA

  8. Thanks, D., for removing that offensive whatever-it-was. To anyone else who is "Anonymous", if you didn't leave an ugly comment, don't worry; I was referring to someone else. PC in VA

  9. I agree! Sundays are special. Don't worry about crying on songs about heaven. If it's a sign of age then this 25 year old must be older in spirit or something because I do it too. :-)

  10. How restful. May i move in? My Sundays are toting people hither and yon, and planning menus as i sit still awhile with my feetup, and reading thru the past weeks worth of mail, and then suddenly it is 8.30 and time to get everyone with tomorrows clothes laid out, lunches made and off to bed.